


blast from the past

by civillove



Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [88]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: request for Blaine running into one of the guys who beat him up at Sadie Hawkins and having a panic attack + a request for possessive seblaine (in this case it’s more of a protective!Sebastian)--Blaine doesn’t really think about that night unless he has to—he knows that it’s something that’s made him stronger and in the long run it’s made him more comfortable and confident about who he really is.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [88]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/82780
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	blast from the past

**Author's Note:**

> tw: dark thoughts, panic attacks.  
> alternate season 4 where klaine break up season 3 and seblaine are dating  
> i really enjoyed writing this! thank you for the requests!

Blaine doesn’t really think about that night unless he has to—he knows that it’s something that’s made him stronger and in the long run it’s made him more comfortable and confident about who he really is.

But he wishes more than anything to never have to remember what he went through that night, what his friend had to go through. When he gets caught up in a riptide of memories, something he can’t pull himself out of, he recalls the exact sounds of feet hitting pavement, the soft crunch of fists hitting bodies, the dripping of blood, the heartbeat in his ears, the whimpering that’s not his own.

He hasn’t thought about that in a long time, about his friend in even longer—he wonders how he’s doing. When he transferred to Dalton, he abandoned him…he finds it hard to even say his _name_ let alone acknowledge what he did. Blaine ran away, went to a school that was more fitting and accepting for him. And while he loves Dalton, it’s where he met Sebastian, it’s where he’s built so many memories that mean everything to him…he can’t help the sliver of doubt and guilt that sometimes worms its way into his stomach.

Blaine’s not even sure why he’s thinking about all of this anyways, maybe because Tina keeps texting him about the Sadie Hawkins dance at McKinley and he _loves_ her, she has to know that, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to that dance with her.

He wants nothing more than to curl up on his couch with his boyfriend and watch a movie, make the night disappear. Blaine was brave once, he went to a dance with Kurt (who was humiliated in his own way) back when he was still here, before New York, before breaking up—

He’s done enough.

Just because he doesn’t want to do this dance one more time…it doesn’t make him a coward. He sighs as he yanks the door open to the Lima Bean, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Blaine pulls the lapels of his thick-knit gray sweater down over the collar of his black polo, moving to tug his phone out of his pocket to check the time and see if he has any missed texts from Sebastian. He’s supposed to be meeting him here and of course he’s late, Sebastian running on his own timetable, so Blaine doesn’t waste any time before getting in line. There’s not much that can keep him from his own cup of raspberry mocha latte, so.

He hums and runs a hand through his curls, using less and less gel these days to keep things in place. It’s mostly just maintenance to keep the frizz level down. He also enjoys feeling freer with his hair and his boyfriend certainly loves touching his curls even more now that he doesn’t have to worry about gel on his hands.

“Blaine, I thought that was you.”

Blaine turns at the voice coming up beside him, a soft default polite smile on his face because he doesn’t automatically recognize who’s talking to him. A soft pinch appears between his eyebrows because…this guy seems familiar even though he’s not sure how to place him.

He adjusts his satchel on his shoulder, his eyes traveling over the lines of the other’s body. The guy is about his age, tall, bulky—probably a football player? In a pair of jeans and a yellow t-shirt that seems like a size too small for him.

“Sorry,” Blaine says after a moment, “I’m not sure I…I don’t—”

The guy clears his throat and dips his head for a moment, looking at his shoes. “Yeah, I guess I’m not surprised if you blocked out who I was. I, uhm, I’m Max.”

It takes about a minute for something cold to slither into Blaine’s blood, like pure ice as realization crashes down onto his shoulders. Max must see it too because his face pinches as if he’s sucking on a lemon and he tries to take a step towards him even though Blaine mimics one back.

“Look, I’m not here to cause any trouble,” He says, voice gentle in ways Blaine never thought it was capable.

Blaine’s pictured this moment so many times, the things he’d say to his bullies that took that night away from him, that made him _afraid_ of people who were ignorant about trying to understand him. He’s seen this scene play out in his mind’s eye, different versions of himself yelling things in the faces of the guys who hurt him, maybe even throwing a punch thanks to his boxing lessons—but all of that goes straight out the window.

And Blaine stands rooted to the ground as if cement has seeped up and over his shoes, keeping him in place. Words get trapped under his tongue, heartbeat roaring in his ears like the ocean as phantom pains from that night begin popping up along his body. He was bruised for weeks, broken bones and battered ribs.

It’s one of the only times he’s thought about dying.

“I saw you from my seat near the window and I—”

Blaine shakes his head, putting his hand up because he doesn’t want to hear it. “No.” He says quickly, his voice pinched.

His chest feels like it’s about to cave in, his ribcage turning in on itself and crushing his organs.

Max swallows and for a brief moment Blaine wonders if he should let him do this, if he should let him apologize. It’s in his nature to so often consider where other people are coming from, to accept apologies even when he doesn’t want to, to be empathetic and understanding but—

But what if, for once, he was selfish about it? What if he doesn’t _want_ their apologies?

Max clears his throat, “I understand. I’m sorry for approaching you. Thanks anyways, Blaine.”

Blaine lets out a noise that sounds crushed between a whimper and a desperateness to gather his emotions under control as Max walks away. He turns quickly, bumps into the person behind him and practically throws the door to the Lima Bean open to get outside. One of his hands lands on the brick wall of the building, holding himself up as he drags oxygen into his lungs—

His eyes fill with tears, beginning to panic because he can’t _breathe—_

“Blaine.” And he feels his shoulders draw together, attempting to make himself smaller until a hand comes down on his arm and wait—he knows that voice, he _knows_ who that is. “Blaine, what’s wrong?”

“Sebastian.” He chokes out and turns into him instantly, unable to say anything else as the taller wraps his arms around him.

Blaine’s hands dig into Sebastian’s back, fingers dragging against the material of his Dalton blazer, eyes snapping shut as he presses his face into his shoulder. He tries to speak, to tell Sebastian what’s wrong when his boyfriend asks for a second time but he can’t get the words to work, a straining noise leaving his throat as he shakes his head.

“Okay,” Sebastian whispers, “Okay, it’s alright. I got you.” He runs his fingers through his curls, soothing them down the back of his neck as he holds onto his trembling body.

Blaine attempts to ground himself, to breathe him in even though its hard, the weight of a cinder block crushing his chest. His boyfriend moves to grab onto his wrist, moving it so that his fingers are against his diaphragm, pulling back just enough so green eyes can settle onto hazel ones.

“Easy,” He whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Breathe with me, okay?” He says against his skin, Blaine struggling to follow. He curls his fingers against Sebastian’s chest, feeling his solid and firm heartbeat underneath the crisp white button-down.

He fixates on the way his lungs move, how the air travels in and out and hiccups as he tries to mimic what’s against his fingertips, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

“There,” Sebastian says gently, cupping one of his cheeks and running his thumb along the bone. “There you go, you got it.”

Blaine physically feels himself deflate, eyes closing as he starts to breathe normally, his chest sore from the weight of anxiety and not enough oxygen. Sebastian gathers him close again, fingers running up and down his back and through his curls until Blaine feels strong enough to pull away.

\--

Blaine sits sideways and quietly in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s car. One of his feet move gravel with the toe of his shoe as Sebastian paces in front of him, running a hand over the lower half of his face when he finally tells him what caused the panic attack.

He feels exhausted; he hasn’t had one of those since he transferred to Dalton. He remembers he used to wake up in the middle of the night, sweat kissed skin from nightmares about what happened to him the night of the dance—not being able to catch his breath, fingers clawing at his throat with his heartbeat in his ears. He closes his eyes a moment, running a hand over his face.

“And he’s just sitting in there?” Sebastian asks for the second time.

Blaine sighs, “I really don’t think he meant to upset me as much as he did.” He looks up at him when he pulls his hand away from his eyes, watching Sebastian move back and forth like a tennis ball stuck in an endless match. “Can you stop moving for a second and look at me?”

Sebastian stops short and turns, hands on his waist—there’s a _fire_ in his eyes that Blaine recognizes, sending a distinct shiver down his spine. And while he’d usually be…turned on by the prospect of his boyfriend being so protective over him, this is not what he wants to deal with right now.

“Max,” And the name feels like broken glass in his mouth, making him visibly swallow, “Meant his apology even though I didn’t want to hear it.”

“He doesn’t _get_ to apologize for something like that Blaine, he just doesn’t.” Sebastian snaps, anger rolling off his shoulders in waves. Blaine watches him carefully for a few moments, his fingers playing with the bottom of his sweater as he holds his gaze because…what is he going to do about it?

Blaine sees a spot of yellow move behind Sebastian, Max leaving the Lima Bean and walking towards the parking lot with a girl—maybe his girlfriend? He should have seen this coming a mile away when Sebastian turns and notices the same thing. He takes a step forward, Blaine barely able to scramble out of the car and grab his wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Stay in the car,” Sebastian says, gently prying his fingers off his wrist.

“Sebastian, _no,_ please? I don’t need you to do this.”

“Do what?” Sebastian says innocently, eyes following Max like a hawk, “I’m just going inside to get our lattes.”

“It’s not worth it,” Blaine insists, not letting Sebastian pull away from him. He squeezes down onto his wrist, hard, his boyfriend turning to give him an incredulous look that at least fills every inch of Blaine’s chest with warmth.

“Not _worth it?”_ He scoffs, “Of course it’d be worth it.” Sebastian sighs but backs down and Max walks to his car, gets inside with his girlfriend and drives off. His shoulders draw together as he turns to look at Blaine, his hand moving to sift through wild curls before his palm settles on the back of his neck.

“Take me home.” Blaine says softly, pressing himself up on his toes to kiss Sebastian’s lips.

His boyfriend hums gently before he nods, turning Blaine by his shoulders and motioning him to the passenger seat. “I actually meant what I said about our lattes, so hold tight.”

A soft laugh slips out of Blaine’s lips as he gets in the passenger seat and watches Sebastian walk across the parking lot and into the Lima Bean. He leans his head back against the cushion and realizes, maybe for the first real time, how much he loves him.

\--

Sebastian drives them back to Blaine’s place, his parents not home from work yet as they make their way inside. He slips upstairs to put a pair of soft joggers on, keeping his polo and sweater as he moves into the living room. His boyfriend is seated in the corner of the couch with his coffee, sipping it as he picks up the remote and puts a movie on to pass the time.

They should probably get started on homework but Blaine’s spent, the Lima Bean taking a lot of energy from him as he sits down next to him. He picks up his latte and takes a sip of his own, glancing at Sebastian, the soft blue glow of the television highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones and the gentle freckles on his cheeks.

“Were you really going to say something to Max for me?” Blaine asks after a moment and Sebastian puts the remote down to look at him.

“I dunno if I was going to say something or hit him, to be honest, hadn’t made up my mind yet.”

And while Blaine doesn’t think you can answer violence with violence, a soft warm grip squeezes him from the inside-out at Sebastian’s admittance. He leans further back against the couch, his thumbs running over the lid of his coffee as his eyes settle on the TV but he’s not really watching what’s playing out on the screen.

He brings his legs up and blankets them underneath his body, angling himself a little towards Sebastian as he says, “I haven’t thought about them in a long time, those three guys that jumped me and my friend,” He swallows, licking his lips. “I thought…after all this time, after everything else I’d been through…they wouldn’t have power over me like that.”

Sebastian shakes his head but says nothing, reaching an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. He squeezes his arm, thumb working across the fabric of his sweater.

“I love you for wanting to stick up for me, even though I wouldn’t let you.”

The taller hums gently and presses a kiss to his temple, letting his lips graze through his curls. “Anytime, Anderson, you know that. You can make it up to me when you’re less tired.”

Blaine smirks and sets the coffee cup down, turning to lean against Sebastian’s chest because he _is_ emotionally exhausted, can feel it in his very bones. He allows his eyes to close, settling down on Sebastian’s lap after his boyfriend puts a pillow on his legs. He yawns, stretching his legs out, inching as close as he can as Sebastian pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch and covers him with it.

He runs his hand up and down Blaine’s arm, creating a lulling sensation that doesn’t help him stay awake. And just before falling asleep, Blaine hears Sebastian whisper back ‘I love you too’, his hand smoothing circles into his scalp.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


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